


Jurrasic Watch

by skinwalkers



Category: Jurassic Park - All Media Types, Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Bad Flirting, Eventual Smut, I dont know how to tag, I’ll add more later, M/M, Making Out, Sexual Tension, The Jurassic Park AU no one asked for, all the sexual tension, dino puns, hanzo shimada is THAT bitch, how do you tag, jesse is practically owen, jesses belt reads dino instead of bamf, kinda enemies to lovers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-15
Updated: 2017-12-15
Packaged: 2019-02-15 01:22:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13020294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skinwalkers/pseuds/skinwalkers
Summary: “Welcome,” the speakers boom as Athena chimes, “To Jurassic World.”.Alternatively titled ; The JW AU NO ONE ASKED FOR





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hi, read and weep. kudos are appreciated & i dont have a beta soz, tell me what u wanna see in the next episode, i just wanna see my fav old men tgt, eng is nt my first language but enjoy this please !!!

Shimada Hanzo is a man of science. He believes in the art that comes with calculations, with geometry, with manipulating DNA to bring back a species that was extinct. He’s incredibly proud of the work his scientists have done, proud of how he manages the park, proud of how he manages nearly 20,000 people daily. 

He adjusts his tie, staring at his reflection in the reflective glass of the elevator, eyes flicking up to where the numbers steadily decrease, the countdown to the lobby, where he is to meet his nephew. Well — nephews.

Hanzo still believes that his brothers interest in peace and harmony and what not has it’s repercussions. While coincidentally take the form of his nephews. Don’t get him wrong, Hanzo enjoys spending time with the twins, adores them even, but with Genji’s constant travelling to test himself by doing handstands under frigid waterfalls while reciting the alphabet backwards with his master and whatnot- is frankly irresponsible. Especially after his brother had adopted a pair of kids during his journey to one of the many war-stricken countries he often ventured to. 

Hanzo loves his brother, he really does, but sometimes he wants to throttle the idiot until his face turns as garish as his hair. The elevator dings and Hanzo takes a deep breath, palms smoothing down the front of his neatly pressed suit as he schools his expression, walking out.

He will always be amazed by this place, as much of a lobby as Hanzo is a pterodactyl, with a huge see through ceiling and interactive displays. It’s where the visitors come in from and where they receive their passes to venture to the park. There are three-dimensional holograms of the dinosaurs, a vast quantity of play areas where kids cluster over and numerous sign boards, pointing towards every attraction in the park. 

There are the predictable families, with fathers who laugh too loud and commit the social atrocity of wearing socks with sandals, mothers with huge sunglasses perched on the bridge of their noses, trying to ferry around toddlers without dissolving into tears themselves, the typical moody teenagers who look like they only shop at Hot Topic and so on. The occasional young couple make googly eyes at each other and remind himself of his solidarity and he ignores the stab as he always does, face clear of any emotion as he scans around the area. The noise is jarring, millions of voices chattering over each other, trying to be heard. He cuts a intimidating figure through the throngs of tourists, despite his small frame, looking around for any sign of his nephews. 

Hanzo manages to spot his assistant, Amèlie, by the map booth and begins to make his way towards her before he’s assaulted by two pairs of arms around his lower torso and he immediately stiffens. It’s been a long time since he’s been touched, and that too by more than one person. Hanzo looks down, lips already curling into a fond smile as he looks down at his nephews, with matching teal eyes and impish demeanours.

“Uncle Hanzo!” They cheer in unison, and he can’t stop himself from grinning back. He registers the click of Amèlies heels as she trails after the twins, looking slightly frazzled.  
“Reizo, Kaito.” He greets, kneeling down slightly to hug them properly. “Look at how big you’ve grown!”  
Hanzo prides himself on being able to tell them apart. He totally wasn’t looking at the names written on their respective water bottles around their necks. What kind of uncle did you take him for?  
He gazes down at them and is filled with an immense feeling of adoration. He’s practically married to his work, but gods he does miss this. 

Amèile clears her throat, and he looks up, watching her motion to her watch. He checks his own and startles, jerking upright. “Aah—“ he fishes around the pockets of his navy blue suit, and holds out two gold line passes to Amèile. “Kids, I will see you tonight, here are two passes so you don’t have to wait in line and if you need or want anything, please tell Amèile-“ he pauses and corrects himself. “Miss Lacroxie.”  
Hanzo moves to detach himself away from them, but they cling on insistently, and he looks at them. The twins frown at him, Reizo narrowing his eyes.  
“You aren’t going to be with us?”  
Hanzo shakes his head apologetically as he manages to peel away a set of arms. One down, another to go.  
Kaito sticks out his bottom lip and for a second the action is totally something Genji would do.  
“Why not?” He whines.  
“I have a meeting.” The excuse sounds flimsy in his own ears and he can see the displeasure written in the twins eyes. He manages to pry off the last set of arms and backpedals, smoothing down the front of his suit, mourning at the rumpled mess it had become. “I will meet you two in time for dinner, if time permits.”  
He can see the elevator in sight, salvation, and nods at Amèile, who he honestly should pay more. The woman rolls her eyes and begins to usher the children away, her heels clicking against the wooden panels once more. 

Hanzo makes his way to the elevator, and presses the button to close it one too many times, blessing the gods themselves for a nice empty elevator. The meeting starts in ten minutes about the second batch of Parasaurolophus escaping from their caged facilities. He’s meeting up with the finest trappers, architects, scientists to discuss the matter. Hanzo watches the doors begin to close and he exhales, shoulders slumping.  
Peace and quiet.  
Or so he thought until a prosthetic hand wedges its way in between the elevator doors. 

He can’t help the groan that escapes him. He really can’t.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hihihi soz this took so long, i felt tht no one liked it bt honestly ....... im gonna post yaaaa i hope everyone has a good cny!! My b’day is cmg up soon OWO so maybe more update? add me on discord to chat! im loki#9754

Jesse McCree is more of a man of instinct. Gut feelings, the whole 6th spidey sense and what-not. It’s good instinct that got him to work well with animals, taught him how to pull away from a jaw thats about to chomp down, how to sooth a frightened pack.   
He learns from experience, and if his prosthetic is anything to go by, he’s pretty darn experienced. 

It’s because of this he manages to realise that he’s gonna be late for that fancy meeting he’s supposed to attend. Being the Head of the Animal Faculty was a huge step for him. He practically lived on site and he was busy fixing up his motorbike when he had to good sense to register the time. He had gotten up, cursing loudly as he realised the state of his attire. If this was any other type of event, he would have been fine with looking like he just rolled out from under dumpster, he had no one to impress— but this, this was a big meeting. 

All the sciencey people and what not. Reyes had taught him how to change with people, adapt, he had called it, as he tugged his beanie over his head and shoved Jesse’s shoulder. 

It hadnt taken him much time to grab a quick shower, put on a nice clean beige button-down, some pants, his boots and then run back into the trailer to get his signature belt buckle. Hey, getting a personalised belt buckle was pretty darn difficult and he was mighty proud of this one, c’mon. 

Jesse manages to reach the big hall, or lobby or waiting room or whatever the hell they called in, with just ten minutes to spare. He spots the bitchy-looking French assistant on her way out, ushering a pair of Asian twins and raises an eyebrow. He knew Amy, or whatever her name was, was divorced. They couldn’t be her kids. Eitherway, they’re swallowed by the massive crowd, and he all but forgets about them when he hears the ping of the elevator. 

It snaps him back to attention and Jesse breaks into a full-out sprint across the room, nearly toppling over the stand of maps.

“Sorry-!” He yells at the folks in the self-help counter, catches sight of the Indian woman who worked at the counter, Satya, shake her fist at him. 

He triumphantly smirks as he manages to wedge his hand through the closing doors, and watches in satisfaction as it opens. He swears he hears a groan. Probably just his strength.

Then his smug expression falls as the doors open to reveal Mr Hanzo Shimada himself, the actual good-to-god person in charge of running his place, looking rather annoyed as he straightens up, raising a brow. 

Fuck. 

Jesse ain’t no pious man but right now he’s hellbent on finding the god responsible for this and feeding them to one of his velociraptors.

Hanzo- fuckin- Shimada, head of the whole thing, man in charge of running all of this. It isnt fair how the other manages to look good all the time, with a gaze that could take down a T-Rex, high cheekbones, silky black hair and that mouth. Pretty petal lips, so red and alluring, opening it up for him, just for him—

“Are you coming inside or not?” The man snaps at the other.

Right. Let’s recalibrate. Hanzo Shimada, part time wet dream, full time Ice Queen. 

He fixes his smile on his face, enjoys how the other looks even more annoyed at that, before sauntering into the elevator, tipping his hat. “Yessire!” Jesse hums, all but folding his hands together formally as he stands beside the other. 

Goddamn.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for making it this far! Make me feel special by leaving a kudos and telling me what you thought abt this chapter!


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